The Radiance of Change - the book

I'm so happy to announce the publication of my first book, The Radiance of Change. As you will see by the blurbs it was written as part of my path of healing following the death of my husband, Barry. It is about loss, yet more accurately it is about what one can gain from choosing to move into the challenges of adjusting to the changes that life inevitably contains. Right now the book is available at two places in Waterville, Me - School Street Yoga and Hospice Volunteers of Waterville, ME. It is also available at our wonderful independent bookstore in Farmington, ME - Devaney Doak and Garrett Booksellers. Here is the link to purchasing it online through them:
https://www.ddgbooks.com/product/radiance-change

I'm Already Armed

I wrote this piece as a way to help myself rally within to return to school on Monday. My heart goes out to the many school communities in our country that have been directly impacted by school violence. I can't imagine the pain and anguish involved with recovering from witnessing such an event.
I believe that one of the ways classroom teachers can move forward in the current climate is to remember and embrace who we are, both as individuals and as a community. This is how I feel and I share it in support of classroom teachers everywhere.

I’m Already Armed

I am a teacher
and I’m already armed.
My ammo consists of
empathy, kindness, passion,
hope, and concern.
My clip includes a deep desire
for my students to grow and learn
as much as they can while they
are in my care.
And care for them, I do.
Each and every day I welcome them
with open arms,
and together
we attack fractions, grammar,
scientific discovery, social constructs,
long division, informational writing,
reading comprehension strategies,
and so much more.
I strive to equip my students
with tools for life
like mindfulness, heartfulness,
creativity, self-expression,
and belief in their individual worth.
The only call to arms I would accept
 is to embrace
my school community
even more.
Such are the arms
that the children of our world
yearn for and deserve.
Caring, connected arms
that hold on and let go
at the very same time.
Arms that support and accept,
encourage expansion and
promote peace.
These are the arms that
belong in schools.
I am a teacher
and I’m already armed.

Sarah Carlson

February 23, 2018

I'm Not Sorry

An introvert's way of processing the publishing of her words:

I’m Not Sorry

I’m not sorry that Barry’s death broke my heart
or that it caused me to explore within.
I’m not sorry that I felt lost
or that it took a while to start finding my way.
I’m not sorry for having been in such pain
or for needing to access help
so I could recover.
I’m not at all sorry,
not one little bit,
that I chose to allow fluid, hopeful words
 to cascade around and through,
that I have now let them
glow in the light of day.
I’m going to allow myself to
soak in the splendor of a job well done
as my words of healing and hope
stream and swirl into the world.
I’m going to trust that people
who choose to engage
will let the experience
 take them wherever they need to go,
feel the feelings they need to feel.
I’m going to stay open to tenderness,
 continue to heal,
 and let my voice be heard.
Naturally humble,
I feel grateful
and proud.
I’m not sorry at all.
There’s just no room for that –
not here,
not now.

Sarah Carlson

February 20, 2018

Soft-Hearted

Soft-Hearted

Silently their skis glide along
a packed trail
that meanders through
the piney woods.
Trunks, branches, and boughs
cradle the still-sparkling snow
deposited by an earlier storm.
Emerging from the trees
onto a frozen pond
they marvel at the stillness
of the winter scene.
Climbing temperatures cause
low clouds to cling
 to the surrounding hills,
enhancing their sense of serenity.
Tracks of varied woodland creatures
criss-cross the trail they follow,
the sense of adventure strong within.
Pausing for conversation they
notice a snowy heart right in
middle of their path.
Soft-hearted beings, both,
they share cozy moments
of understanding, friendship,
and awe.
The one writing these words
connects ever more deeply
to the tenderness of her
healing heart.

Sarah Carlson

February 11, 2018